


Carpe Diem

by AgentMarvelDC



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/F, Prostitution, Questioning Sexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentMarvelDC/pseuds/AgentMarvelDC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of oneshots of Nyssa based off of Latin phrases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dulce Bellum Inexpertis

**Author's Note:**

> Dulce bellum inexpertis - War is sweet for those who haven’t experienced it

She had finally reached the age of seven – the proper age, her father had said, to begin. Her nimble ears overheard her father’s closest advisors and their suggestions for a suitable age. Six, ten, twelve, fifteen – one advisor had gone far enough to suggest the age of eighteen. But she didn’t want to wait so long. She was eager to join her father and the bold and glorious warriors that marched alongside him. Even her earliest memories had her sitting in the training yard and watching in awe at the sleek and swift assassins spar with an unlimited variety of weapons. As much as she enjoyed her books and learning, she had counted down the days when she would physically train for the first time.

Nyssa elegantly dipped her quill in ink and wrote her name in calligraphy on the yellowed parchment in front of her. She was in her extravagant chambers in Nanda Parbat, hunched over the mahogany desk her father had gifted her the previous year. She was waiting for her father to emerge from the double doors at any moment, for the excitement was almost killing her. She had already dressed in her white training robes.

One door sprung open and a middle-aged assassin stepped in. She quickly recognized him as one of her father’s closest associates and jumped out of her wooden chair, bowing her head with respect.

He returned the bow with a small smile. “It is time, my child,” he spoke to her in Arabic.

She followed him through the door and was exposed to the heat of her dry home. They climbed down the steep steps to a path that led past the small dojos and through the training yard. Nyssa glanced at the recruits that tumbled and hastily returned to their feet. The thick sound of wood hitting wood encompassed the surrounding area with shouts of Arabic. An archer some yards away from her stood tall, shoulders back, hand gripping the bow and fingers letting the slim black arrow fly. It implanted itself in the center of the target with precision and ease. It was in that moment that Nyssa decided the first thing she wanted to learn was archery.

She was led to her father’s personal dojo, a large and exquisite building that stood a distance away from the rest of the population. It was clear Ra's al Ghul enjoyed his privacy.

Her father’s associate stopped in front of the doors and turned to her, bowing deeply. “Best of luck, Princess,” he said to her before retreating back up the path.

Nyssa smiled at his acknowledgement of her. “Princess” was a term the people of the mountains used to describe her importance, although the term itself proved to be a euphemism. Her father had taught her to always introduce herself as the Heir to the Demon – a title, he promised, that would strike fear in any wise man alive. Nyssa did as her father commanded, but she still preferred to be a princess.

She pushed open the pair of doors and entered her father’s secluded dojo, an area in which she had only been allowed in once before. She could still remember the Arabic and Latin inscriptions engraved across the top of the walls and the showcase of detailed armor and weapons propped up underneath it. She remembered the feel of the delicately weaved mats lying underneath her feet and the flickering of the array of candles scattered across the room. Her father had prepared his dojo exactly the way Nyssa remembered it.

Ra’s al Ghul was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room in front of a small table barely six inches from the ground. It held two bowls of water; one, Nyssa noticed, had an abundant amount of steam rising from it.

“Sit, my child,” he instructed, gesturing in front of him to the other side of the table. She obediently sat down and mimicked her father’s sitting position.

“Are you ready to learn to become an assassin?” he asked. She could have sworn she detected a hint of amusement in his voice.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, father.”

He laughed -an act Nyssa found odd since her father rarely laughed. “I am afraid you are not, my child,” he said, his grin erasing from his lips. “You have much to learn. Hold out your hand.” He indicated one of the bowls with a nod.

Nyssa extended her small arm and let her hand hover over the bowl of water that didn’t have hot steam streaming from it and waited patiently for further instructions. This wasn’t the type of training she had expected, but it was physical training nonetheless. Her father’s pause heightened her anticipation.

“Don’t move your hand,” he ordered as he lifted up the second bowl of water. Nyssa’s blind trust in her father didn’t make her question his actions until the steaming water splashed across the top of her hand.

She yelped and shoved her hand in the first bowl, relishing the coolness that soothed the burning sensation. She looked up at her father, hurt and betrayed, only to find anger creased in the features of his face and severe disappointment in his eyes.

“What did I tell you?” he demanded. She hated it when he was mad.

“To not move my hand,” she mumbled, her gaze casted downwards to the hand submerged in water.

“And what did you do?”

“I moved it.”

His fist slammed against the table, sending ripples through both bowls of water and a shiver down Nyssa’s spine. “You disobeyed me,” he growled. “Never do that again. Put your hand up.”

Nyssa hesitated – which was a mistake she should never have done. Her father pulled her hand from the water and gripped it tightly with his left hand while his right hand reached for the second bowl.

“No!” She involuntarily cried out and attempted to pull away. His eyes shot up to meet hers with anger as clear as light on the blackest day.

“Do not disobey me!”

Nyssa knew she couldn't get out of this. She relented and allowed her father to retrieve the second bowl. Tears pushed their way through, unfortunately, and was something her father never liked. He declared it as a sign of weakness; an act that showed the lack of strength. So she never cried in her father’s company, and her father’s advisors were too kind to reveal these secrets to their Head. But her father had seen her tears which provided fuel to his fire within.

“You must learn the world is cruel,” he hissed, slowly pouring the steaming water over their hands. Nyssa cried out again and sobbed even harder. She tried to pull away from the hot and prickly pain erupting across her fingers and her palm, but her father’s grasp was too tight.

“You wanted to learn the ways of the League,” he stated as he continued to spill the water across the tops of their hands. “And this is your first lesson. To be a member of the League, you must understand that pain is inevitable. You will never stop feeling pain.”

He tipped the bowl upside down completely to allow the last few drops out. He stood up and released her hand, then grabbed both bowls and walked to the corner of the ancient room. Nyssa hadn’t noticed it earlier, but there was a large pot over a small fire hidden in the darkness. She could have sworn even the flames flickered black.

As her father refilled the streaming bowl, Nyssa cradled her burned hand. She had expected her training to be filled with exercise and weapons. She could remember all the times she saw recruits dodge their teachers’ attacks and return their own blows. Nyssa has desperately wanted to be one of them - people her father was proud of to be part of the League. Now she could only see his displeasure as he walked back over and replaced his seat.

“Hold out you hand.”

She didn’t have a choice. All she could do was hope the pain would be so unbearable her hand would be rendered numb. She closed her eyes as the hot water poured over her hand and reflexively pulled back. But, before her father could do or say anything, she put her hand over the bowl again.

“Good,” he praised her as he continued pouring the water, not taking note of her apparent flinching. “Because pain is inevitable, you must understand and accept it. Do not allow pain to be your weakness, but allow it to be your strength.”

“Yes, father.”

“The League is at war. I have many enemies, my child. They will come for my heir. To protect you, I must teach you to protect yourself.”

“Yes, father.”

“Your duty as the Heir to the Demon is crucial. Everywhere you go, every action you commit, you not only represent the League, but you represent me as well. I am the most feared man that has ever walked upon this earth. You must live up to my name.”

“Yes, father.”

There was silence as Ra's seemed to get caught up in a lost memory. After a moment, he uttered, “It would have been easier if you were my son.”

Nyssa didn’t expect her father to say those words, but she did know this statement was true. Her father’s top advisors insisted a daughter wasn’t suitable and only a son could be a true and proper heir. Ra’s al Ghul ignored them and claimed Nyssa would bring about more greatness than any son he could ever have. Nyssa felt flattered her father had such a vast amount of faith in her, but it came at a price. She spent her first seven years of life learning languages, mathematics, an assortment of sciences, history, philosophy, and any books she could get her hands on. A male heir would need to be strong, reasonable, and an adequate strategist. A female heir would need to be beyond strong, fast, unemotional, near-genius, extremely beautiful, an excellent strategist, an expert in every form of fighting known, and must come second to her father in everything possible. It wasn’t fair, but it was reality.

“I know your strength, my child,” Ra’s said, lowering the steaming bowl. The pain still felt like fire on Nyssa’s hand, but she didn’t dare succumb to her desire of feeling the cool water lapping her burns. Her father placed her small hand in his large hands and gently massaged her wounds. “You are the Heir to the Demon, not a princess. War is not as glorious as you have thought. It is pain. It is suffering. It is death.” He used one hand to wipe away the tears that continued to emerge from her eyes. “This is the first of many lessons to come. You need to know you cannot defeat pain, but instead, welcome it like an old friend.” He softly led her hand to the cool bowl of water and allowed Nyssa to recover temporarily.

Nyssa sighed with relief. Her sobs grew short to small breaths and her eyes were becoming drier. “Yes, father.”

Ra’s didn't hear her. He watched the shadow of one of the wavering candles dance. “In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have you do this. I would let you choose your own path.” He looked back at her with a grim expression. “But this isn’t the perfect world. You have been cursed as my heir, the Heir to the Demon. I know what is best for you, and, in some instances, it may be pain.”

Nyssa nodded in understanding. She couldn’t despise her father for caring about her and the League of Assassins.

“You are stronger than I am,” he continued. “I will show you your capabilities and your potential. I will show you the strength inside you that I can never possess. I will show you how to be a leader of greatness and respect when you must become the Head of the Demon. You are, after all, my most prized possession.”

Nyssa nodded again, a half smile surfacing from his confession. “Yes, father,” she said once more.

“Good. Now give me your other hand.”


	2. Vita Non Est Vivere Sed Valere Vita Est

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vita non est vivere sed valere vita est - Life is more than merely staying alive

Nyssa slid into her silky red robe after stripping off the last of her armor. She had been in those clothes since before the sun broke the sky and almost gave an audible sound of relief when it was finally off. Her armor was woven with the best materials the League could purchase so she couldn’t truly complain about its weight or the feel of the fabric against her skin. It’s just nothing could rival her favorite robe.

Nyssa heard the footsteps before she heard a soft knock on the door. “Who is it?” she nearly sang, feeling excitement curl from underneath her stomach.

She opened the door to reveal her young recruit smirking and leaning against the wooden frame. The blonde had traded in her own training robes for something more comfortable- a loose fitting tee and the sweatpants she stole from Nyssa last month. Nyssa knew it was hers considering her companion had folded the bottom of the pants into cuffs. 

“Heard you returned,” Sara said, stepping through the doorway and quietly shutting the door. “I wanted to see you.”

“I told you I would return soon,” Nyssa replied. She trailed her hand down Sara’s arm and slipped her hand into the smaller one. “We are to train in the early morning. Surely you would see me then.”

“I couldn’t wait.”

Sara leaned over to kiss Nyssa, but the older assassin put her hand on Sara’s mouth and pushed her back. “You need to learn.”

“Learn what?” Sara scoffed. “How to be patient?”

Nyssa sighed and sat down on her bed, Sara not a heartbeat behind. “Your footsteps are quite loud. You are walking with the wrong part of your feet. I have already told you this.”

“No one heard me,” Sara bumped Nyssa’s shoulder with her own. “We’ll be fine. Live a little.”

“This skill will be important when completing missions,” Nyssa insisted.

Sara rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine.” Sara tried to kiss her again, but Nyssa turned her head and Sara’s lips met her lover’s cheek instead.

“You need to take this seriously. You can be killed, whether it be by my father or an enemy.”

Sara bit her lip, not particularly liking the conversation, but recognized where her teacher was coming from. “I understand, milady,” she said, tilting her head downwards.

Nyssa scowled. “I told you to only address me as such when in the presence of company,” she glared at her. “When in my company, and my company alone, we are equals.”

“Then let’s be equals.”

Nyssa was impressed how quick Sara managed to push her down and climb on top of her. She didn’t mind the weight Sara placed on her torso, or the blonde hair that grazed her cheeks. Nyssa adored intimacy; she treasured Sara’s skin upon hers. Moments like these had Nyssa forget about all the worries of her cursed life. She could see Sara’s misty-eyed stare and know she was feeling the same.

“Can we pretend the whole world outside doesn’t exist?” Sara whispered. She looked vulnerable; the lost yellow bird with the darkness growing inside her. Nyssa gazed at the scars that were carved into her recruit, each representing the strength of her character. Each mark and imperfection on Sara’s body caused Nyssa to love her even more. Sara’s potential and motivation painted her so beautifully.

Sara’s heartfelt question moved Nyssa heavily. “Yes,” she breathed, giving her lover the only answer she could offer. 

Sara leaned down and rested her lips against Nyssa’s before enveloping her in a passionate kiss. Nyssa wrapped her arms around her beloved and pulled her close, feeling her heat. If only time could freeze this perfect moment.

A hard knock on the door forced the women to separate.

“Who dares disturb the Heir to the Demon?” Nyssa growled, earning a grin from Sara. The brunette assassin knew her pupil loved her intimidating tactics and was more than happy to oblige.

“The Head.”

To say Sara moved as fast as the speed of sound wouldn’t be a complete exaggeration. She already had a leg out the window before Nyssa could completely register what was happening. Dazed, Nyssa watched Sara jump out of her second-story window and then turned her attention to the door. She racked her brain and could not remember the last time her father visited her chambers personally.

She pulled the robe tighter around her as she opened the door. “Father,” she greeted the older man who was still dressed in his armor. She felt a pang of guilt and realized she should have worn something more suitable for the leader of the League of Assassins. She pushed all thoughts aside as she pulled the door wide open to allow her father access into her chambers.

Ra’s al Ghul stepped in and looked around the room briefly before noticing the crumpled sheets of Nyssa’s bed.

“I was getting ready for bed,” Nyssa said the half-truth. 

Ra’s looked at his daughter. “A bit early, isn’t it, my child?”

Nyssa pulled the sheets carelessly and smoothed it down. “Forgive me father, for it has been a long day.”

He nodded in understanding, but continued to stare at her. Nyssa hoped her cheeks weren’t flushed pink from Sara’s touch. 

“We have important business to discuss,” he finally said.

“Of course, father.”

He ran his hands across his face, gently rubbing his eyes. Nyssa didn’t realize how tired her father could look. He was supposed to be ready to take down nations at any given moment; now, he looked like he was barely capable to stand and speak to her.

“Postpone your early morning training with your bird for an hour and have breakfast with me,” he said. Nyssa knew it was an order, not a request. 

“Yes, father,” she replied. “What will we discuss?”

“I will tell you tomorrow morning. You’ve had a long day, so rest, my child.” With a curt nod, Ra’s al Ghul walked back to the entrance of the room. Nyssa bowed just before her father shut the door behind him.

She let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on her cotton sheets. Her father at the door while she was in the most compromising position – it was too close for comfort.

She jumped up. A small figure climbed back into the room.

“Why didn’t you return to your room?” Nyssa hissed as she sat back on the bed, the blonde joining her.

Sara shrugged. “Wasn’t finished with you.”

Nyssa couldn’t help but be amused by her lover. She laid back down on the bed and pulled Sara next to her. “You are going to get yourself killed.”

Sara laughed. “We’ll see about that,” her blue eyes twinkled. “Anyway, what did your dad want?”

“He wanted to discuss something of importance tomorrow morning,” she answered, pushing a lock of golden hair behind Sara’s ear. “You are allowed an hour of rest.”

The recruit grinned. “Gonna need it.”

Sara rolled on top of Nyssa and resumed the same position before they were interrupted. She brushed her nose against her mentor’s and asked, “Couldn’t your dad just send a messenger?”

“You really want to discuss my father right now?” Nyssa teased and pecked the smaller woman on the lips.

Sara paused, as if to consider her options. “You’re right,” Sara replied mischievously. “We’ve got better things to do.”

She unraveled the belt that pulled Nyssa’s robe together and let it lie loose. The cool air felt amazing on Nyssa’s bare skin, only sloppily covered by her underwear. It felt even better when Sara ran her hands across Nyssa’s torso, feeling the scars and muscles that layered her abdomen.

They shouldn’t be doing this. If their secret relationship was discovered, Sara would be killed and Nyssa would be given a punishment so harsh she would be begging for death. Nyssa was supposed to be more reasonable than this. She just couldn’t help not caring when it came to Sara. Her father made her feel like his prized warrior; the League treated her as a precious metal that earned fear and deserved respect. But Sara- only Sara- made her feel like a person. Only Sara could make her feel loved and happy. Only Sara could make her feel alive.

Nyssa reached for the bottom of Sara’s shirt and lifted the hem, but Sara interlaced their fingers and put their hands above Nyssa’s head. Sara rarely took charge, and when she did, Nyssa enjoyed every moment.

“Not yet,” Sara murmured, trailing kisses around Nyssa’s neck, up to her chin, and on her lips. 

“Why not?” Nyssa managed to ask when they parted for breath.

“You have to live a little,” Sara smiled. She kissed down her neck, down her chest, across her stomach. Their hands were still together, holding each other close.

Nyssa closed her eyes as she embraced the sensation. “As you wish, my Ta-er al Asfer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was going to post a lot sooner, but life happened and I couldn't. Anyway, feel free to leave reviews and feedback or how Nyssa did not receive justice this season.


	3. Dum Vivimus Servimus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dum vivimus servimus - While we live, we serve

She pushed her way past the inebriated men and followed an assassin into the gluttonous shack. They were on the outskirts of Dubai, where the rich and class appear to melt away with the sand. The assassin turned back to ensure she was following before he dipped his head through the door. Nyssa ignored the jeers of the older men surrounding her and swiftly followed.

It wasn’t that Ra’s mistrusted Nyssa, or he didn’t have any faith in her- he simply wanted to keep her safe. Most assassins were hands off anyway. Her present companion - Al Rasuul- preferred to complete a mission as soon as possible. Nyssa would rather stop to enjoy the sights or encourage a challenge, but she respected her elders. Besides, she was a fifteen year old girl among men who would have paid to see her in chains, and for once she felt the motivation to return home quickly. She let her left hand rest on the handle of the blade fastened to her thigh.

Once through the door, Nyssa’s nostrils were attacked with strong scents and casual smoke. She was in a room where small girls ran from male to male, filling glasses and accepting payment. The windows were boarded up with aged wood and the ground was covered in dirt and bodily fluids. It was truly a disgusting sight, but it was the first time Nyssa entered a brothel. She was no fool - she heard stories of the horrible sights, some from her father, some from other older assassins - but she never knew that these women could be beautiful. She didn’t know where to look. 

A gorgeous brunette was sitting on the lap of a young Middle Eastern merchant, his arms encircling her waist. She had her undergarments on - still on the process of teasing him - but her lightly tanned skin radiated across the room. She bit her dark red lips as her hazel eyes followed the other man’s movements. He dragged his hand down her stomach to the edge of the thin cloth barely holding her modesty. The brunette giggled and captured his hand, returning it to her hip. The man wasn’t satisfied. He roughly readjusted her, pulling her close enough to where his mouth met her neck. Nyssa didn’t know what he was doing - brown locks proved impervious- but God was she intrigued. The brunette allowed her head to fall back and moaned to the man’s touch. Nyssa couldn’t believe how loud the woman was. This couldn’t be real... 

“Princess,” Al Rasuul called. Her head snapped away from the scene unfolding in front of her. She had not known where her companion had gone too, but he appeared behind her, disheveled and displeased.

“He is not here,” he reported to her in Arabic. She nodded her understanding. Even before this venture, she knew their target wouldn’t be present. 

“Let us return to the safe house, then,” she responded in the same tongue. “He will surely be present for the exchange tomorrow. We strike then.”

Al Rasuul bowed his head briefly before retreating out the door. Nyssa followed suite, but not before glancing back at the brunette, who was allowing the man to lay his hands on the flimsy garment scarcely covering her chest. Nyssa hastily tore her gaze away and followed her companion.

As she walked by Al Rasuul’s side, a thought struck her and plunged into her gut. She always ignored the feelings of unrest that came from under her stomach, but what she saw not a moment ago- it stirred her in ways she was sure was sinful. Growing up, perhaps?

She tried to shake away the thoughts as she stepped into the passenger side of an old S.U.V. Al Rasuul had personally picked out. She listened to the engine awake and gazed at the sand outside her door. Then another thought hit her even harder than the first one.

Did she want to be the woman, or did she want to be the man? Her enticing feelings came from looking at the brunette, wondering how her skin felt underneath her own fingers, how it tasted. Maybe unwrap the undergarments like a something gifted to Nyssa for her birthday.

She stared out the window. This wasn’t normal. This couldn’t be normal. She felt no attraction to the man whatsoever, and he was one of the young ones in the building. If her father ever found out…

She rested her forehead against the cool window. What did she do to deserve this? Maybe it’s a obstacle in womanhood. Maybe every girl is thrown onto this path. If not, she’ll teach herself, maybe. Men aren’t awful. But women are so beautiful and touchable and this interest in the same sex wasn’t anything new, really -

“Princess?” Al Rasuul interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?” she glanced at him before returning to the window.

“Ra’s al Ghul had wished to be updated on our current situation. Shall I do it when we return to our quarters?”

Nyssa sighed, but shook her head. It was supposed to be her mission after all, so she might as well deliver the bad news. 

“I will,” she muttered, picking up the bulky phone laid on top of the console set between them. Her fingers clumsily pressed against the faded digits as she fought the bile and fear rising up her throat. She took a deep breath while listening to the ringing. She needed to collect herself before-

Her father’s sharp words barked into her ear. She filled him in on their current situation, which he, to her relief, wasn’t upset about. After his final instructions, Nyssa dutifully replied, “Yes, father,” before returning the device on to the top of the console. 

A problem for another day. It wasn’t like she would fall in love with some woman. Love is, after all, a child’s tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted when I promised! Feel free to leave comments.


	4. Mutantur Omnia Nos Et Mutamur In Illis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mutantur omnia nos et mutamur in illis - All things change, and we change with them

“Uumph. Ugh. Fuck.”

“Quiet.”

Laurel finally collapsed onto the mat with a groan, pain pushing its way through her core. Nyssa sighed before digging the heel of her foot into the small of Laurel’s back, causing the blonde’s head to shoot up.

“Ow! What’s wrong with you?”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Nyssa said simply.

Laurel looked up at her teacher, craning her neck to see the woman on her back. “Your weight is not helpful,” she retorted. “Nor welcomed.”

“I am attempting to meditate,” Nyssa replied drily.

Laurel pushed herself up with another grunt. Nyssa resumed her cross legged position on the other woman’s back. “Smooth and strong, little bird,” she instructed.

Laurel descended to the ground and thrusted herself up once more. “This is probably bad for my back. How can you even meditate like this?”

Nyssa rolled her eyes lightheartedly, feeling a warmth rise from her chest. “All you do is complain.”

“And all you do is cause me pain,” Laurel shot back, pulling up from another push-up.

Nyssa didn’t say anything; she found her student’s words all too true. She was the one who took Sara into the League of Assassins. She was the one who kept Sara away for years. And when her yellow bird refused to return to their nest, she poisoned Laurel and kidnapped her mother. Now, Sara was dead at the hands of Merlyn. She was targeted for her relationship with the Daughter of the Demon. Therefore, really, Nyssa was the reason Sara was dead. Laurel would argue otherwise, but Nyssa knew better.

“Are you going to answer me?” Laurel‘s voice broke her musing. “How the hell can you meditate on me?”

Nyssa couldn’t help the tug at the corner of her lips. She may have caused the Lance family great pain, but she’ll be damn sure she’ll make it up. “I find your movements pleasurable,” she murmured, her voice still low in thought.

She instantly regretted her choice of words.

Laurel crashed into the ground, shoulders shaking, her face red and laughing. Nyssa knew this segment of the training was over and moved her seat to the ground.

“Stop laughing,” Nyssa ordered, her smile defying her.

Laurel rolled onto her back, a grin plastered on her red lips. Her eyes met Nyssa’s and she burst into another giggle.

“Stop it.”

“You know I’m not her,” Laurel teased, nudging Nyssa’s knee. 

Nyssa’s eyes narrowed. “An easy mistake. You are both stubborn and infuriating.”

“Is that so?” Laurel smirked. She sat up, crosslegged in front of her teacher, their knees touching. 

Nyssa gazed at the woman in front of her. She noted the scar on the bottom of her pupil’s chin, recently acquired by a would-be rapist in the alleyway behind Big Belly Burger. She then admired the curvature of Laurel’s defined arms and toned stomach and - well, yeah. She especially liked her hair, blonde and soft and sweaty. 

“You are not my Canary,” Nyssa stated suddenly, amusement absent in her tone. Laurel’s smile faltered.

“I know that,” Laurel replied bitterly. She dug her fingers into her palm. “I’ve been telling everyone I know that. I’m not trying to be her.”

“I’m aware of your differences,” Nyssa agreed hastily, realizing the impact of her words. She pushed a loose strand of Laurel’s hair behind her ear. Laurel didn’t react. They were used to the closeness, the intimacy. But at the end of the day, she wasn’t Sara.

“Then what?”

“I could not survive without your company,” Nyssa spoke softly as she traced her fingers down Laurel’s jaw before retreating back to her lap.

Laurel returned the gesture with a small smile. “I feel the same way.”

“I was a yes-man to my father, always. Leaving him was easy. I wouldn’t know what to do if you turned me away.”

“We’ve got each other,” Laurel replied. “And you’ve helped me, too.”

“The fire burning inside you pushes you to lengths of greatness,” Nyssa continued, recalling their previous training sessions.

Laurel shook her head. “I need more training. I’m not a hero yet.” She paused, turning thoughts over in her head. “If I ever will be.”

“Dinah Laurel Lance,” Nyssa drawled out the legendary name, fitting pieces of stories Sara told to what she’s seen of the lawyer. “Always trying to save the world.”

Laurel stared past her companion. “I’m getting there.”

Nyssa laughed at her doubt. “You were a hero before a fool in a green hood was running from rooftops.”

Laurel blushed, turning away from her gaze. “Sometimes the law isn’t enough,” she admitted.

“Ta-er al asfer was one of strengths and heroics although the League proved no justice to her ideals,” Nyssa said, standing up. She felt a surge of affection and leaned forward, pressing her lips against Laurel’s temple. “She would be proud of you.”

Laurel drew an intake of breath; for which reason, Nyssa couldn’t tell. But Nyssa did extend Laurel a hand, which the student took.

“Shall we continue?” Nyssa inquired, glancing at the wooden staffs set up against the wall, wondering if she should take pity and treat her with ease or give her the full force of League training.

“Only if you stop flirting.”

Nyssa raised her eyebrows. Full force it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not regularly posting. But please feel free to leave a comment!


	5. Amare Et Sapere Vix Deo Conceditur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur - Even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time

It was a mission to the Bahamas - a feat neither women could complain for. After the blood was shed, Sara begged Nyssa to allow them one day of rest on the famous sands that bordered the ocean. Nyssa could only comply.

Nyssa sat upright on the blanket she shared with Sara. The blonde laid next to her in a blue bikini, waiting for the brunette to finish her call. After mumbling “Yes, father,” Nyssa set down the receiver.

“What was that about?” Sara asked, smoothing down the fabric of Nyssa’s sarong that laid on top of her thigh. 

“Nothing of importance,” Nyssa answered with a soft smile. “He only inquired of why we are spending an extra day.”

Sara sat up. “So? Are we good or…”

“We are fine, beloved. I told him security was heightened so we must wait before leaving the country.”

Sara chuckled lightly. “Honestly, security’s been growing by the minute. I’m surprised you let us stay.”

“As am I,” Nyssa admitted. “But I find the costs worth it.” She leaned over to plant a kiss on the younger woman’s cheek before pulling back. When Sara frowned, Nyssa asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You missed my lips.”

Nyssa wrapped her arms around Sara’s neck and pulled her close, enveloping her into a passionate kiss. For a moment, all the beachgoers disappeared and all they needed was each other.

Much to Sara’s dismay, Nyssa abruptly stood up. “What now, Nys?”

“We should swim. The ocean looks inviting.”

Sara accepted the hand Nyssa offered to pull her up. Then the brunette untied the sarong and let it fall at her feet.

“Wow.” Sara didn’t hide the movements of her eyes. Nyssa was wearing a black and red bikini that boasted a generous amount of skin. The ocean wasn’t the only thing that looked inviting.

“Come, Ta-er al asfer,” Nyssa smirked, pulling her with her to the water’s edge. Oh how she enjoyed how smitten Sara can get.

They gently waded through the water until they were enough distance away from their closest neighbors. The ocean was warm, and with threats of violence and killing, the beach was less crowded than it should have been. 

“I enjoy this,” Nyssa commented, welcoming the warm water surrounding her. She felt Sara’s arm wrap around her chest, her lips pressed against Nyssa’s shoulder.

“I enjoy you,” the blonde murmured.

Nyssa’s laugh bubbled in her throat. She allowed Sara to embrace her for a moment, never being one to argue against her touch.

Nyssa turned around, breaking Sara’s hold on her, and wrapped her arms around her, letting the water breeze through them. 

“We shouldn’t be here,” Nyssa confessed into her ear. 

Sara smiled into her neck. “Then why are we?”

Nyssa pulled back, their foreheads rested against each other. “I don’t know.” Her words were soft. “I truly do not know.”

They settled into the waves, pressed against the water and each other. They fell into a moment of vulnerability.

“I cannot think around you,” Nyssa breathed into the younger ear. “I cannot dream without your presence seeping in. My heart cannot beat unless I know your heart beats as well. I will never love another the way I loved you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Sara kissed under her chin. “I’m not leaving. And I love you, too, Nyssa. You and me. That’s the end.”

They kissed. It was warm, compassionate, and filled with promises. 

“Besides, you’re like the hottest person I know.” 

Nyssa laughed then. She didn’t mind how often Sara would shatter their moments, for she knew the next one was never far away.

“I’m serious,” Sara insisted, gazing down through the water. “I’m including men and women in this. You are drop dead gorgeous.”

“Not compared to your beauty,” Nyssa replied as she ran her hair through the clumps of blonde hair. 

Sara shook her head. “Are you kidding me? Literally every guy we walk by stares at you.”

“And every time you walk by, beloved, my eyes follow you,” Nyssa replied, kissing her further retorts away.


End file.
